Be

Welcome to our 2011 holiday letter, making a guest appearance online this year as trying to mail cards & letters from Peru was slightly impractical and cost-prohibitive!


This is a different end-of-year letter to write than we normally do; typically this is one of the few times per year we write about what is going on with us for our fabulous but far-flung community of family and friends. But this year I’m writing every week or so, trying to capture interesting or meaningful experiences as we have them, not only to share with you, but also to help us preserve these memories after we’ve returned home. Bear with us as we straddle the line between writing a year-end missive without including too much that is already posted on this blog.


As mentioned elsewhere, we are spending Sam’s sabbatical year in South America, mostly Peru, and the three months we’ve been here so far have been amazing. Since those months are fairly well chronicled here and on Sam’s blog, I won’t say too much about them, other than they are going by very quickly. (If you are interested in having future posts delivered to your email inbox, type in your email address to the box on the top right corner of the blog that says “subscribe by email”. Ditto for Sam’s blog, which you can find via the link at the top, right.)


We tend to pick a word that represents our motto for the upcoming year, and look for a quote that helps illustrate what we mean.

I like to walk alone on country paths, rice plants and wild grasses on both sides, putting each foot down on the earth in mindfulness, knowing that I walk on the wondrous earth. In such moments, existence is a miraculous and mysterious reality.


People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child - our own two eyes. All is a miracle. 

Thich Nhat Hahn

It’s funny how, once we’ve settled on a word, it jumps out at us in a number of situations. I tend to be tense and want to make projections, plans, nail down specifics. Sam tends to want to keep options open and make decisions a little later. With the move to Peru, there have been so many things that we’ve simply needed to wait for (such as finding friends, improving Spanish, various pieces of information) that many of our conversations have ended with some iteration of “Let’s just be. Let’s just enjoy the moment.” Simon, having fun with beginning to say recognizable words, has also enjoyed reminding us to “BEEEEEE!” He’s a good reminder for that in general.

Simon has continued to amaze and amuse us with his energy, good nature, cheerfulness, adaptability, and all-around fun-ness. He is pretty fabulous. He loves mopping, sweeping (both of which come in handy daily here), loading the laundry, and helping us make coffee and juice each morning.

What a huge help he is! He’s starting to want to “help” on the stove; yikes! He’s started waving hello and goodbye to strangers as well as whenever cars honk, which means he’s incessantly waving; he likes playing with other little kids at the playground and is currently only sliding down the slide backwards. But more than anything or anyone else, he loves playing with Dieuwe, Yannina’s 11-year-old daughter, and Giuseppe, Christina’s 6-year-old son. He runs to the window to wave goodbye to Giuseppe when he leaves for school, and when we see Dieuwe at Manos Amigas he screams with delight and off they go to play.

Sappy or simplistic as it sounds, a lot of this year was just about enjoying life during long talk/walks with friends and their kids, and the anticipation of the sabbatical in South America. Besides being in Peru or planning for Peru, other significant and/or special happenings for me (Alison) this year included:


I finished the book of Jared’s blog, finally. We threw a party to celebrate.


Some of the backstory: When my brother, Jared, was diagnosed with leukemia in 2007, he started a blog on CaringBridge. After he passed away in 2008, I didn't want his blog to just disappear. I wanted his sons (so young when he died: Caleb was 2 years, Noah 4 mos) to get to know their father as they grew up, through his writing as well as what other people remembered about him. I wanted them to see a gazillion pictures of Jared, encompassing his entire life instead of just the 8 months of his leukemia fight.


So, I decided to make a book of his blog, with additional sections for Jared's obituary, memorial services, letters & stories from friends, some of his widow Anne's posts, and two memorial events at Camp Friedenswald. I wanted to make five copies of this book - one for each of his sons, Anne, my parents, and myself.


I worked with a designer to place the text and photos and create the sections somewhat close to how I'd envisioned them. I formatted the text & cleaned up all the abysmal spelling from the comments. In August 2010, I finally dropped off the printed copies of the book to a bookmaker, who had agreed years before to stitch and hand-bind each book.


And, three years after I started working on this project, the five copies of this book were finally completed. They are gorgeous. I wish I would have taken photos of them all together, but alas, that opportunity is gone. As each book is over 800 pages long, it takes some serious reading to get through it. The professionals I worked with did an amazing job. I am so grateful to have his elegant and honest writing, with silly and serious photos, in a beautiful package for our family! My uncle blogged about the book too; read what he had to say.


I worked part-time during the summer, covering some duties during a maternity leave for a friend and former co-worker. It was fun to get back into the work force a day or two per week, and Simon had a blast with his babysitter friend Kelsey. It helped me better consider various factors I’d like to have when I go back to work in a more permanent employment situation, as has my part-time volunteering here with Manos Amigas.


I also really, really enjoy continuing to help run the arts committee at my church. We got an arts space (MennoArts Gallery) up and running with several shows this year, and had a number of projects in the hopper before I left. It will be fun to step back into those projects, and whatever is next on our plate, when we return.


And now, switching to Sam…


This year has felt like a year of preparation for my sabbatical and our year in Peru. This is something Alison and I have wanted to do for years and have been plotting for as long to make it happen. But a whole new level of planning was needed to make the actual jump.


I spent much time laying the groundwork for my absence from Global Gifts. An important and insightful task was writing out my job description. As Global Gifts has grown over the years my responsibilities have changed significantly. I had to sit down, think through, and write all that I do. It was insightful because before that exercise, I think I would have had a bit of difficulty explaining my job in detail. The next step was hiring and training my replacement and splitting up my job responsibilities between that person and other people on staff. In the middle of all of this transition, we needed to move one of our stores to a new location. This involved much negotiation with landlords, handwringing, and the logistical challenge of closing one operation and opening another. We had the grand opening for this new store September 9, and we left for Peru the following week (just under the wire). I’m pleased to say that things are going very well in my absence and it looks like Global Gifts is having a record sales year. That success is a real tribute to the many people involved with Global Gifts. Our time in Peru and meeting many artisans reminds me just how important it is that Global Gifts continues to do well.


In addition to my responsibilities with Global Gifts we needed to find renters for our house and move out. This experience was not too unlike opening the new store in terms of handwringing, negotiations, and logistical challenges. But on the plus side, it did prompt us to get rid of a lot of extra stuff.


During those last few months before we left, I kept thinking, when I get on that plane, I’m going to breathe a huge sigh of relief and enjoy the slowness of my sabbatical. It didn’t quite turn out that way but gradually life has slowed down. Spending so much more time with Simon, while not relaxing, is a real joy and a great benefit of this sabbatical year.


While blogs are great for keeping up with what is going on in someone else’s life, it’s certainly no match for an actual conversation or visit. As you have the time and interest, we would love to hear (or read!) what is going on with you and your family.


Much love,
Alison & Sam